The Elderfield Chronicles
by Baker-Street-Potter-Head
Summary: What if every fairytale, every horror story you ever read was real? What if there were such things as witches, ghosts, werewolves and vampires? What if fairies and mermaids weren't the innocent creatures depicted in those tales? Sherlock Holmes, an outcast vampire, hunts these rogue creatures in the human world with John Watson, a Seer...and is Molly Hooper all she first seems?
1. Volume One: Fairies

_Hello and welcome to my brand new story :) Ok, I know I currently have lots of other stories on the go and I am working on them but this one refused to leave me alone :/ I'm trying my hand at the supernatural side of things so expect creatures and lots of them ;) xx Anyway, thank you for giving this a go and I hope you enjoy it. If you want more please let me know :D Thank you and here's chapter one… xx_

* * *

**_Prologue_**

Sherlock Holmes was a vampire. That much was obvious but there were several things that separated him from others of his kind.

Firstly, he was an expert detective that hunted rogue species from Elderfield, his realm and home, capturing them and bringing them back. He was the only one assigned to the 'ordinary world', stopping creatures and demons breaking through and protecting them. This wasn't enough to secure his safety from his own kind, however.

Secondly, Sherlock had been so banished from his realm for refusing to follow his kind's customs; he wouldn't feed off of the living, the innocent, rejected the blood of criminals as he believed they should pay for their crimes. A vampire with morals, it was hard for the others to believe. He achieved sustenance of his bloodlust by feeding off of his _own_; he would approach them, his 'viable targets', bite them and drink their tainted blood. His 'victims' wouldn't die, of course; Sherlock would only drink what he needed to keep himself controlled. It wasn't fresh, living blood but it served its purpose, keeping him sustained and safe without hurting anyone.

Thirdly,Sherlock Holmes was cursed. Drinking the blood of your own kind strengthens the powers and, depending on the particular vampire, transfers their particular 'gift' onto that vampire. It is for this reason why it is strictly against their code.

Finally, there was a reason Sherlock had never been caught, until now, anyway. Vampire venom had the remarkable ability to bestow an overpowering sensation of confusion and bewilderment when injected into the skin; even to vampires this sensation is overwhelming. The reason Sherlock managed to get himself caught was because he had chosen his target in the hall of the Lord of Elderfield. Sherlock had grown desperate, pouncing on his victim without thinking properly and was happened upon by none other than his brother and the Lord himself. After receiving his fulfilment, his victim crumpled to the ground, momentarily disorientated. Sherlock flicked his gaze from Mycroft, his brother and aid to the Lord, to the Lord himself, unblinking and still, the thick, black blood still dripping from his mouth and down his chin. Sherlock didn't need to be told; he saw the disappointment in his brother's face and had fled, speeding through the halls of his realm in a blurry haze.

* * *

**_Present Day – 221B Baker Street, London, England_**

Sherlock was sitting on the sofa, restless and unblinking. No creatures had revealed themselves for the last few days and he was growing increasingly bored, which worried his flatmate, John Watson, who was currently attempting to get some sleep. John knew all about Sherlock, of course, for he was what was known as a Seer. He was still a human but he had a certain gift which allowed him to see the abilities and hidden secrets people held; the first time they had met, John had seen Sherlock for what he really was. He saw the tall, dark, shadowy figure underneath the blue eyes, curly black hair and pale skin. He saw the pitch black skin and deep crimson eyes…and the fangs. The long, pointy and deadly fangs he hid from the world. John proved to be most helpful when Sherlock was tracking down the creatures from his realm. John understood his need for secrecy and lack of knowledge when it came to human emotions. Sherlock was staring at his hands when John emerged from his bedroom, yawning and rubbing his neck.

"Sherlock…Mr. Jefferies wants to see you…he won't leave until he's spoken to you."

Sherlock slowly turned his sharp gaze onto his flatmate and sighed dramatically, although no air was released. He gracefully rose to his feet and followed John into his bedroom. Sherlock glanced around the room and, naturally, saw nothing; he turned to John and saw he was staring at the window. Sherlock spoke in his deep voice, focusing on the window.

"What is the problem, Mr. Jefferies?"

John narrowed his eyes and saw, in front of him, the wispy white figure bury his face in his hands, muttering to himself. John nodded and bit his lip, taking in his words. Sherlock rolled his eyes and waited impatiently, tapping his foot. John cleared his throat and turned to Sherlock.

"He…uh…wants to know if you've…found his murderer yet."

Sherlock pursed his lips together and shook his head and John winced, clutching his head tightly; Sherlock assumed the ghost had let out a wailing sound. Sure enough, the picture on John's cabinet fell to the ground. Sherlock sighed impatiently and looked towards the window.

"I am going to the morgue right now to examine your body, sir. I shall return with the knowledge of who killed and justice will be served."

Sherlock disappeared with a swish of long coat and John noticed the wispy figure of Mr. Jefferies nod before vanishing slowly himself.

* * *

Back in Elderfield, Sherlock never really noticed the opposite sex; his kind usually partnered off and mated for life when they had found that one other. Inter-specie relations were strictly forbidden and Sherlock had never found interest in his own kind, other than food. It was here though, in this morgue, he found himself entertaining unusual thoughts…and it was all because of a simple, human woman working there. He had seen her around before, but he was usually distracted with cases and threats. There was one more thing about vampires that Sherlock was reminded of right at this second; every single sense was enhanced at least double the norm. Except their libido. That was increased by at least ten fold…especially in mateless vampires. It was lucky that Sherlock possessed immense self-control, otherwise he would have _had_ her by now. Sherlock watched her move carefully around the body and groaned when she bent over to examine further. She looked up at him, frowning slightly.

"Is…is something wrong, Sherlock?"

He shook his head, avoiding looking at her and keeping his darkened eyes off of her. He was all too aware of his fingernails digging into the back of his hand. He hated how his voice sounded a pitch or two higher than usual.

"No…I am fine, Molly. Did…you find anything?"

Molly furrowed her brow and shook her head, her ponytail swaying behind her. Sherlock clenched his fists tighter and focused completely on her lips when she spoke.

"No, I cannot see anything that suggests murder, Sherlock…and the lab results didn't detect any poisons…but that's why you're here, right?"

Sherlock nodded vigorously, secretly enjoying how his name sounded falling from her lips. Sherlock approached the body and flicked his eyes over speedily, his heightened sense of sight eliminating the need for a close examination.

"Hmmm…he was murdered. I am certain."

It soon occurred to Sherlock that he wasn't looking for a _human _perpetrator. He turned around and walked towards the doors, determined to leave Molly's intoxicating aroma. She blinked in confusion and folded her arms.

"So, you've got it, then?"

"Not exactly…but I know _what _I am looking for. Thank you Molly, you have been most…_helpful_."

Sherlock heard her whisper 'anytime and anything' and smirked to himself. He pulled his coat collar up and disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

_"John, is that you? I need Sherlock…where is he?"_

"Lestrade, what's the matter?"

_"We've got a situation…a 'special' situation…one of your unique cases, you know…"_

John swallowed and rose to his feet, pacing the flat slowly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Do you know…er…what it is?"

There was immense hesitation from the other end of the phone as Lestrade was apparently thinking of the right words to say.

_"Um…well, I can't be sure, of course…but I believe it's a…er…a fairy…"_

John sighed and resisted the urge to laugh and he replied to the Inspector. He had never seen a fairy before and assumed they were the harmless little creatures in the stories.

"Well…I've never dealt with one before but I'm sure they're very hard to…"

John couldn't stop anymore and released his giggles as Lestrade protested against his ear.

_"Alright, alright…I know what you're thinking…but they're tricky. It appeared and started messing around…look, just get Sherlock down here. This is his speciality after all."_

John wiped his eyes as Lestrade hung up. John stopped pacing and rubbed the back of his neck, still giggling that a _fairy_ had managed to stump Scotland Yard.

"You shouldn't laugh, you know," the extremely slow voice behind him would have startled John if he wasn't so used to it already. He turned and came face to face with the wispy, white figure of Mr. Jefferies, floating gently and wearing a sad expression. "You don't know what you are dealing with."

John frowned and nodded, smiling slightly as he placed his hands in his pockets.

"If anyone can find who did this to you, it's Sherlock Holmes."

Mr. Jefferies tilted his head towards John, his pale eyes fixing on the only person who can see him.

"I've been asking myself why this happened to me. I had friends…a family. My little girl. I have to watch her grow up without me there. For a while I wondered where the good in the world is…I realise its hiding in a flat in London. If you'll excuse me, Doctor Watson…it's my daughter's birthday…"

John nodded as Mr. Jefferies disappeared, blinking rapidly to rid the water that had risen. **I swear to you…we'll find out who did this to you. **John coughed and sniffed for a moment before reaching for his phone.

_Incident with Lestrade. Fairy, apparently. JW_

Sherlock's reaction to his text was the last thing John had expected.

_Really? Interesting. I'll meet you there…and leave your gun. Important. Don't forget. Leave. Your. Gun. SH_

John stared in disbelief at this text and shook his head, letting out a short, sharp breath. He removed the gun from his pocket and placed it on his chair, confusion setting in. He descended the stairs and headed into the street, his human restrictions forcing him to hail for a taxi.

* * *

John arrived outside of the warehouse surrounded by police cars. John glanced around and noticed Sherlock examining the building and shaking his head. He approached him and frowned as he looked at his shirt.

"Um…you've got black on your shirt."

Sherlock smirked and knelt on the ground, narrowing his eyes.

"I had a little snack on the way here."

John shook his head and frowned, kneeling next to him and speaking low into his ear.

"I thought the side effects of doing that meant you got their 'abilities' as well," Sherlock's silence told John everything and he sighed deeply, "you _know _how dangerous-"

"Yes. It is also helpful."

John ruffled his hair as he glanced backwards; Lestrade was speaking to his squad and instructing them to follow his orders. John turned back to Sherlock who was leaning further against the floor.

"Was this one?"

Sherlock chuckled softly and turned his head away from John as he spoke.

"You'd think so…x-ray vision. Not very powerful…only clothes. Can you please do one thing for me and walk behind…for the time being."

John nodded and suddenly felt very exposed. **Serves you right. Well, I suppose it's better than…the other option. **Sherlock rose to his feet suddenly and swept towards Lestrade, keeping eye contact the whole time and wearing a foul expression.

"It's in there. There's no doubt. I need to ask you to remove your belt, Inspector…"

Lestrade blinked rapidly for a moment before flashing his charming grin and looking at his team.

"Excuse me? Sherlock, you can't be serious."

"All of you…unless you'd rather have them around your necks."

Sherlock glanced at the people surrounding the cars and several officers began removing their belts, throwing them into the cars. Sherlock rolled his eyes and glared at John, who sighed and removed his own.

"I suggest you all buy trousers that fit it future…you'll thank me later…" he started walking to the building and shut his eyes tight, thinking, "…curious thing about fairies…slight telekinesis, not uncommon in my realm…they have the ability to manipulate small pieces of metal to their own will…"

Sherlock was speaking as he swept gracefully towards the doors, John and Lestrade following close behind and ensuring they remained behind. With a small nod towards the others, Sherlock pulled the doors open and rushed inside, immediately plunged into darkness when they swung shut behind him. Sherlock rolled his eyes as he heard Lestrade whimper slightly. Sherlock squinted but it was too dark to see anything, even the tiny glow of light the fairy would emit.

"Keep still…I'm going to look…"

Lestrade nodded, petrified and John held his breath, pressing himself tightly to the door. Sherlock moved silently forwards, his eyes darting to every dark corner of the room. Nothing. He glanced back towards the door and spoke quietly.

"Are you sure there was-"

Sherlock was cut off suddenly and John frowned in the darkness trying to find out where his friend had disappeared. He glanced blindly to where he assumed Lestrade was standing before stepping forwards, keeping low and whispering.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?"

He silently crept forwards before colliding with something soft and unmoving in front of him. John cautiously moved around Sherlock's deathly still figure and jumped in fright; Sherlock's eyes were glowing pink. John swallowed and cleared his throat.

"Sherlock?"

He still didn't move and John realised he wasn't himself. **Fairies can possess as well? Sherlock really needs to tell me more. **Sounding braver than he was, John cleared his throat again.

"What do you want?"

It was a while before the figure inhabiting Sherlock spoke in raspy high-pitched voice that didn't suit the body it was possessing.

"Freedom…Doctor Watson…help me…"

John smiled softly and looked into Sherlock's eyes, the pink growing brighter and turning redder. John shook his head and spoke again, his voice shaking as he did so.

"Did…did you kill…Mr. Jefferies...?"

There was a shrill laugh as the red ball of light hurled itself towards John, causing him to leap to the floor. Sherlock shook himself off and they watched as the fairy flew away from them, glowing brighter and redder until there was a large red human-like figure standing before them, wings beating furiously. The laugh of the faceless red creature was unbearable, its piercing voice shrieking at them.

"That's the problem with you humans…you _feel _too much…Mr. Jefferies had it coming...shouldn't have swallowed that coin…aren't children silly?"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows and John buried his face in his hands, shocked and horrified expressions. Before either of them could say anything and the fairy could laugh, a blast of green light illuminated the room and struck the creature which proceeded to fall to the ground, its light flickering as it spluttered on the floor; it was no longer the size of a fully grown human but how John imagined them to be in the first place. Sherlock dropped to his knees, ignoring Lestrade's cries, and whispered to the dying creature.

"Why? Tell me why?"

The creature just gave a high-pitched giggle before stilling, its featureless face showing nothing. Sherlock stood, spinning around on the spot and focusing on the ceiling, much to John and Lestrade's confusion.

"Did you see who it was…did you see who did it?"

Lestrade looked confused as he stared down at the lifeless figure on the floor. John shook his head rapidly and ruffled his hair.

"You told us to leave our weapons, Sherlock…"

Lestrade nodded and Sherlock glanced down at the fairy; its glow had faded completely and Sherlock saw the smiling face and the lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. Lestrade shook his head vigorously and Sherlock's eyes widened as he looked at the ceiling once more. John rubbed the back of his neck as he heard Sherlock mutter: 'you know what to do' to the Inspector, who nodded, and hurried towards the doors. John followed hastily, struggling to keep up with the haste of the vampire.

"Where are you going?"

Sherlock stopped outside and ruffled his curls, whirling to face the worried looking doctor. Sherlock took a deep breath, the air failing to reach his lungs.

"I have to examine Mr. Jefferies body again…inform him we have found his killer…"

"Of course…but what was that thing, Sherlock…what killed that fairy?"

Sherlock placed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, shaking his head in defeat.

"I don't know…it wasn't human…that's for sure…"

Before John could say another word, Sherlock was hurrying down the street, his coat billowing behind him as he sped towards the hospital.

* * *

"It was a fairy, apparently, you…you swallowed a coin as a child…it must have got stuck or something…I am so sorry…"

Mr. Jefferies nodded, wiping his eyes; John assumed there were tears even if he couldn't see them. The wispy white figure floated before him for a moment before speaking in the slow and steady voice John had grown accustomed to.

"Thank you…Doctor Watson…please, give my gratitude to Mr. Holmes…I am eternally grateful…and that is something I can relate to…I need to be with my family now…should you ever need my assistance again…do not hesitate to call…"

John nodded in acceptance as the ghost slowly vanished. He collapsed into his chair and picked up his paper, wiping away the tears that betrayed his true emotions.

* * *

"Why didn't we notice this before?"

Sherlock was peering at Mr. Jefferies post-mortem examinations and shook his head. Molly sighed behind him and pulled her ponytail loose, running her fingers through her messy hair.

"I don't know…I'm sorry, I guess because I wasn't looking for it I overlooked it…I'm so sorry…"

Sherlock sighed and straightened up, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"It doesn't matter now. We found it and who-"

Sherlock stopped abruptly when he turned around and realised, with an annoyingly pleasant lurch of his stomach, that his earlier side effects hadn't completely worn off. Sherlock couldn't look away as he noticed Molly's underwear choice was far less than sensible. Molly frowned and placed her hands on her hips, noticing how Sherlock was nearly biting through his lips and his eyes were nearly completely black.

"Are you alright?"

Sherlock nodded vigorously and clasped his hands tightly behind his back, trying and failing to bring his gaze higher to meet her eyes. Molly narrowed her eyes before turning around and walking over to her desk, not hearing the groan Sherlock had released as she did so. She had been speaking to him as she perched herself in her chair but Sherlock had been too distracted to hear her.

"I'm sorry…what was that?"

Molly frowned slightly as she looked at Sherlock's fake smile. She tilted her head slightly; **when did he move in front of my desk? **Molly put her feet on her desk and folded her arms; Sherlock appeared to be internally struggling with something.

"I said how did you find out about the coin…?"

Sherlock smirked and glanced at the floor, rocking on his feet as he finally managed to meet her eyes.

"I found the killer…unfortunately, I wasn't able to bring him to justice…" he smirked to himself and seized his opportunity to really impress her, "…if only I could have saved him…I couldn't do it…"

Molly stood up now and approached Sherlock; if he had breath it would have caught in his chest, he was sure. She bit her lip and stood on her tiptoes, staring deep into his eyes as though in a trance.

"Don't blame yourself…he would've died anyway…that warehouse was dark…it wasn't your fault…"

Sherlock, previously unaware he had leaned forwards considerably, blinked rapidly and breathed out the air that wasn't in his body.

"I-I don't remember saying anything…about a warehouse, Molly…"

Molly snapped her eyes open, unaware she had closed them and bit her lip. **Shit. **Sherlock's mouth fell to the floor, but as to why he was currently unsure…

* * *

_Oooh! Sorry about the length, this one was mostly an introduction, anyway ;) Ok, thank you so much for reading and I hope it wasn't a waste of your time :) xx If you want to read more please let me know…I hope you enjoyed that and thank you again xx_


	2. Volume Two: The Angel & The Iceman

_Hello again everyone! Thank you so much for reading and for your lovely reviews. I'm glad you liked it ;) Here's chapter two… xx_

* * *

The air was suddenly thick with tension and Molly found herself unable to look Sherlock in his deep blue eyes. Molly shook her head furiously as she gazed at the floor.

"Look at me."

It was a forceful and sultry command, a deep whisper in the quiet morgue; Molly obeyed immediately. Sherlock cupped her chin and tilted her head up slightly so he could see her in the light. He delicately bit his lip, taking steady airless breaths.

"I am not upset you killed that fairy. I understand you did what you felt was necessary…the only thing is, I do not know _why _you felt it necessary. Who are you?"

Molly raised her eyebrows and smirked devilishly; Sherlock allowed his gaze to slip from hers momentarily and sucked in another airless breath as he noticed his earlier 'ailment' was still present. When he next looked into her eyes, Molly was surprised to see his once cool blues were now completely blackened. She swallowed, not wanting to step backwards away from his soft grip on her chin; Molly was aware the temperature of Sherlock's skin was different to everyone else's. His was considerably warmer than her own; although it wasn't hot enough to burn, it left Molly with a tingling sensation. Molly's seductive smirk and breathy voice was tempting Sherlock and testing his every ounce of willpower.

"Interesting choice of words…'who', not 'what'-"

"That's because you're not one of them…one of my kind. You can't be."

Molly was stunned; she took a step back and ran her hands through her hair, taking deep breaths. Molly, with her back to Sherlock, straightened and composed herself before turning and grinning deviously.

"Am I not? You see, for every demon that walks this Earth, an angel is sent to bring them down…using any means necessary…" Sherlock frowned as Molly walked slowly towards him. He raised an eyebrow when she smirked suddenly, meeting his eyes once more "…luckily for you, Sherlock Holmes, yours is on your side…"

Sherlock released a small chuckle as Molly fiddled with her hands in front of him. **She seems nervous. She shouldn't be if she can 'bring me down'. **

"An angel."

Molly nodded and tilted her head to the side.

"There are more realms than Elderfield, you know."

Sherlock blinked in confusion and remembered something else she had said.

"Every creature from Elderfield has something from your realm 'assigned' to kill them. Of course…it only happens when we enter the normal world. Otherwise, you would have entered Elderfield already…"

Molly nodded her head slowly, licking her lips subconsciously and Sherlock whirled about on the spot. He slowly turned to face her then, another question tugging at his lips.

"Then, why spare me? Why are you on my side?"

Molly's shrill laugh echoed around the morgue as she folded her arms, approaching him cautiously.

"I thought that was obvious…you are not like other vampires. You prey on your own kind, regardless of personal risk. I saw what you went through to find Mr. Jefferies killer…" Sherlock had been watching her like a hawk, noticing how her voice was shaking with lust and want. Her eyes matched his black now as she hummed softly, flicking her gaze over his tall frame, "…but mostly, you make a very attractive human…borderline sexy, in fact. I believe your true form would be something of wonder…"

Sherlock rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small feeling of pride that had overcome him. Sherlock hadn't chosen this skin; when vampires leave and enter the human world, their black as night flesh immediately moulds into what they would look like as humans. Molly was standing directly in front of him now, slowly running her hands up and down his chest. Sherlock was still staring at her whilst squeezing out his words through gritted teeth.

"You are no _angel, _that is for sure." **You had better not be.**

"Nor are you a demon." **God, I bet you are.**

Sherlock glanced down at her hands which had now stilled on his chest, silently cursing himself as the effects of before had now worn off. **Hmmm, good and evil. Sounds interesting, the only thing is, I am not sure as to who is which. **Molly sucked her bottom lip as she dropped her hands, earning a curious look from the detective. He could almost see Molly's breath floating in the air before him as she spoke.

"Now…my turn. Why are you so hot?" Sherlock was seriously fighting his smirk as he glanced towards the floor. It was Molly's turn to roll her eyes as she folded her arms. "I meant your temperature, Sherlock. I thought vampires were supposed to be cold-blooded."

Sherlock couldn't resist releasing a small chuckle. He looked up and met her eyes for what was probably the hundredth time. Molly looked curious as she watched his lips move slowly when he talked.

"My blood is…particular. I have no temperature, technically. That changed when someone touches me. My body temperature adapts to the temperature people are accustomed to. Unfortunately, this is multiplied exponentially when…" he blinked suddenly and Molly tilted her head to the side, a sly smirk creeping onto her face. Sherlock swallowed as he continued, his current train of thought forcing anything logical away, "…excited."

Molly's eyes widened considerably and her eyes grew darker, if it was possible. She took a deep breath through her nose as she bit her lip watching as Sherlock apparently struggled internally.

"Where are your wings?"

After recovering from surprise, Molly smirked and flicked her eyes upwards; his voice had been strangled and hurried, his eyes were shut tight. It was a childish question but he had _assumed _angels carried this kind of flight device. He imagined large, feathered and beautiful white wings stretching far and powerful enough to carry the heaviest of loads. She narrowed her eyes, licking her lips softly.

"Where are yours?"

Sherlock gently opened his eyes and fixed them on the smug pathologist, unaware he was smirking in defeat. **Very well…angels mould to their human skins, as well. I wonder…**

Sherlock took Molly's hand and delighted in the way she sucked in a breath. She was unprepared for what he did next, however. Sherlock took a discarded scalpel and held it in front of her.

"May I?"

Molly bit her lip but nodded nervously; his voice was soft and convincing, not that she would have argued. In her current state of mind, she would have given him anything he asked for. Sherlock slowly dropped his gaze to her covered arm. He pulled the sleeve of her lab coat up to her elbow and placed the cool steel against her skin. It wouldn't hurt, she was like him. Sherlock carefully pressed deep into her arm and withdrew to examine the scalpel. The blade glittered with Molly's shining, snow white blood and the wound on her arm had healed as quickly as it had appeared. Sherlock bit his lip tightly as he realised how similar they were and yet at the same time very gave a shockingly wide smile then, as he stood away from her.

"Right…my turn, I think."

Molly began to protest but his immense vampiric speed had allowed him to lift the sleeve of his jacket with ease and drag the scalpel across his arm. Molly glanced in mesmerised awe as Sherlock's black as night blood dripped down his arm and fell to the floor. She glanced towards him and saw him focused on the scalpel, twirling in between his fingers. Their black and white blood glistened in a marvellous blend on the cold steel. Sherlock shook his sleeve down once his arm had healed over, much slower than Molly's had done. After a few moments, Molly's breathless voice filled the morgue.

"Well…that's something."

"Yes. I suppose it is."

The room fell silent once more. Sherlock had never experienced the feeling of awkwardness before and it was quite unsettling. Thankfully, the buzzing of his phone provided something for him to do.

_Incident. Not sure what it is this time. Please come. GL_

"It's Lestrade…another creature has emerged, it seems…" he turned towards the morgue doors, appearing there quickly, with an exaggerated swish of his coat. He turned back towards her and smirked, "please, stay out of trouble…I am more than capable and do not need to be 'protected'."

Molly rolled her eyes and tossed her hair behind her shoulders, grinning internally as she saw Sherlock's eyebrows rise. Molly moved over to her desk and felt the detective's gaze burning into her back.

"I shall, of course, if you yourself stay out of _trouble, _also. I'll be watching…you may not see me, but I'm watching you."

Sherlock gave one final smirk before turning and speeding towards his destination, leaving both he and Molly with the uncomfortable sensation of frustration.

* * *

When Sherlock appeared, Lestrade was pacing back and forth erratically and glancing towards the sky every now and then. He seemed nervous and Sherlock approached him silently, clearing his throat; Lestrade jumped in fright and, after recovering, was staring at Sherlock in confused awe. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and the Inspector shook himself.

"Sorry, Sh-Sherlock…I didn't see you there."

Sherlock gave a short nod and shifted his gaze to the sky where Lestrade had been glancing moments ago.

"What are we looking for?"

Lestrade swallowed and began fiddling with his hands. Sherlock frowned as he felt a strange sensation filling his mind. He shook himself and watched as Lestrade dropped his gaze quickly and swallowed urgently.

"Um…w-well, it's a…I'm not sure."

Sherlock stopped examining the sky and fixed Lestrade with a confused stare. Lestrade was still ringing his hands and spinning on the spot. A taxi pulled up on the road behind them and John emerged, looking very irritated. Sherlock could immediately tell Lestrade hadn't contacted him and his new ghostly friend had instead. After paying the driver, John whirled around and moved towards them, muttering angrily as he did so.

"…doesn't need me anymore. Why should I care…he can-"

John stopped dead once he caught sight of the Inspector and stared at him in horror. Lestrade had apparently failed to notice this but Sherlock smirked to himself.

"Hmmm…you're not _sure_?"

Lestrade smiled nervously and Sherlock felt the sensation in his mind, again. He realised he was _feeling _this creature rooting around his thoughts...and he knew exactly what it was. Sherlock rolled his eyes before fixing a stare onto 'Lestrade'. **Did you find anything interesting, Mycroft? '**Lestrade' lifted his gaze to Sherlock's and frowned deeply, folding his arms. Sherlock sighed and continued the conversation in his mind. **I do not appreciate you occupying the bodies of my associates to discover personal details about me. I am not sure how you managed to do it- ah, yes, of course…you are still in Elderfield but you are using our Lord's magic, am I right? Please, do not read my mind…you know how I ****_hate_**** that. Your concern is most appreciated but there is no need to watch over me…I already have a guardian angel.**

Sherlock bit back a smirk as he watched Mycroft scowl and shake his head.

"It's a funny place this, isn't it? I don't know how you cope," Mycroft's expression softened as he looked at his younger brother, "Sherlock, please come home. You can be forgiven…after a trial and sentencing, of course. You must pay…but I need you home, brother. There was no other way to contact you…"

John remained rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the dark skinned and red eyed creature currently overpowering the sweet-natured Inspector. Sherlock placed his hands in his pockets and shook his head furiously.

"No. Absolutely not, I came here for a reason. These people are my…friends, I suppose you could call them."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes and sighed in defeat, bowing his head. Sherlock was too distracted to notice, however, as his mind wandered. **…and then there's Molly Hooper, my pathologist. My angel. **Sherlock watched as Mycroft lifted his eyes to meet his and shake his head.

"Forget her, Sherlock. It is _dangerous_ to become involved with other spec- did you just say _angel_? The beasts that threaten our very existence? You _cannot _be serious, Sherlock Holmes? Angels are _evil_...they are not to be trusted."

"Goodbye Mycroft. I think I can make my own decisions. Besides, Molly is not evil…she, too, has gone against her kind's customs and has therefore chosen to 'protect' me instead of destroying me. Give my regards to our Lord and master, won't you?"

Mycroft huffed in irritation at his brother's smirk and left Lestrade immediately. Sherlock wondered what Mycroft had to do for the Lord in order to achieve that. Lestrade shook away his disorientation and glanced around with a horrified look on his face, staring from John to Sherlock.

"That was…weird. What happened?"

John shrugged, unsure of what to say and turned nervously to the detective. Sherlock gave a dramatic sigh and waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh, nothing. My nosy brother temporarily inhabited your body in order to spy on me. The only thing he found was that I am not leaving here…" Lestrade's mouth had dropped open. **That is the exact opposite of 'nothing'. **Sherlock had furrowed his brow and was glancing at the ground in deep thought, a small chuckle escaping him, "…and that I am deeply enamoured with someone I shouldn't be. I must put that right, actually…I shall see you tomorrow…"

John blinked in confusion and glanced at his watch, yelling after Sherlock's retreating figure.

"It's half two in the morning!"

Sherlock had already disappeared and John shook his head, turning to the Inspector who still looked hailed a cab and made sure Lestrade was alright before leaving for 221B. Entering the flat, John was shocked to discover the wispy white figure of Mr. Jefferies hovering by the window. His slow voice now had an air of peace to it.

"Dr. Watson."

John nodded politely and moved over to his chair.

"Mr. Jefferies…how are you?"

The ghost gave what John assumed to be a small smile as he nodded.

"Exceptionally well, given the circumstances…and please call me Colin…"

John tapped his fingers nervously against the chair as he fixed Colin with a confused stare.

"I'm assuming that you're not here for polite conversation."

The ghost bit his lip and shook his head slowly, fiddling with his hands. John raised his eyebrows and watched as Colin turned to look out of the window, speaking slowly and bowing his head.

"The thing is…I am very grated for what…you did for me and…there are others…like me that haven't 'passed over'…they need his help…"

John folded his arms and smiled softly.

"Of course…send them here when he gets back. Thank you Colin, we'd be happy to help the others to rest in peace."

Colin nodded and gave a small smile before disappearing slowly once more. John sighed deeply and yawned, shaking his head. **I'm not waiting up for him. I'll tell him in the morning. **John stretched and got to his feet, dragging his heavy-feeling frame towards his bedroom.

* * *

Sherlock arrived at Molly's building in no time, trembling in anticipation. He ran a hand through his messy hair and took a deep, airless breath. He noticed a couple approach the doors and offer him entry. He refused with a delicate smirk, and glanced around the dark and empty street. Sherlock licked his lips, having no effect whatsoever and released a deep groan as he chose instead to effortlessly climb the building walls to her window. He balanced himself easily on the ledge as he pulled off his gloves and placed his now bare hands either side of the window, smirking deliciously. Sherlock had _intended _to just stare through the dark window, hoping to watch her sleep. Instead, he watched with extreme desire and a hungry expression as he noticed Molly's silhouette climb out of bed and pull on a flimsy dressing gown, moving towards the curtain-covered windows...

* * *

_Hmmm…what's going to happen, I wonder? ;) Thank you very much for reading and I hope you enjoyed that chapter :D There's plenty more to come if you like this story, of course :) xx Stay tuned, back soon xx_


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